


Like Peppermint On Your Soul [Marry Me]

by jupiter_james



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Artist Castiel, Baseball fan Dean, Drabbles, Engagement, Engineer Dean, Fluff, M/M, Proposals, Tattoo Artist Castiel, angst-free fics, marry me, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-08-31 15:25:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8583688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiter_james/pseuds/jupiter_james
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles and prompts I got on Tumblr. Each and every one is 100% fluff. They're all marriage proposals. Different fandoms might pop up, and I'll note them when they do at the start of every chapter and I'll also note pairings and fandoms in the chapter titles, so you can skip the ones you're not interested in reading. All of these are completely stand-alone.
You can also read them all on my Tumblr, Jupiter James





	1. (Supernatural/Destiel) Sharpie Tattoos

  
_Dean/Castiel_  
 **College AU**  
Artist!Castiel, Engineer!Dean

"You run out of paper again?" Dean mutters, not turning his eyes away from his engineering textbook.

"No," Castiel says distractedly. "You haven't had a tattoo in a while. That's sad. I'm fixing that now."

Dean spares only a quick glance over the top of his black rimmed glasses just to make sure that nothing's changed in the past few weeks. It hasn't. Dean is sitting cross legged on the floor, back resting against his bed, studying. Castiel is arranging his Sharpie markers in a neat line on the floor beside him contemplating Dean's bare arm with that squinty, considering look that Dean likes. He likes it so much he doesn't even suggest that Castiel give in and have his eyes checked already. It’s been eight years, and the squinting lines are starting to etch permanently into his forehead. Dean likes that, too.

He also actually likes Castiel drawing on his arm. Always has. They'd been freshmen strangers, assigned to the same dorm room. A pizza, several sodas, and a late night of unpacking their belongings later, they'd talked that punch-drunk talk of already sleep deprived students. Dean had said he'd always wanted a full sleeve tattoo. Castiel had said he could help design one. Dean had flinched and said his needle phobia would never allow him to actually get it. Castiel had frowned and looked legitimately sad.  
Two weeks later he'd brought out the Sharpies and given Dean his first "tattoo." It had been an explosion of tropical flowers up his forearm with ukiyo-e styled waves cresting up his arm. Dean had been stunned at his roommate's talent.  
Every time the ink finally washed off, Castiel replaced the tattoo. Eight years of it, every one getting better and better. Castiel has a whole Instagram account dedicated to his designs and an obscene amount of people follow it. And he and Dean had stayed together from undergrad to master's to PhD. Or, as Castiel likes to say, four apartments and two cats, and one house ago. 

They haven't seen each other in three weeks over their extended winter break. Castiel had remained at their apartment and taken care of the cats while Dean had gone home to Kansas for his annual family visit. When he’d finally pulled the Impala into his parking space in the garage, he’d discovered a landing strip drawn in sidewalk chalk on the ground along with a massive calligraphic scrawl stating, “about time you got home.”  
And Dean can tell by the way that Castiel is gripping his arm, studying the skin closely like he's trying re-memorize it, that they've both been completely miserable apart. It's like this every year, but Castiel hates getting in the way of Dean and Sam's only weeks alone together. Dean appreciates it and hates it. He keeps sending Castiel links to jobs near Sam's area. He'd like them all to be a family one day.

He leans over and kisses Castiel on his temple before the man really gets to work on the tattoo. If he waits, Castiel will grumble at him for even the slightest movement. For an hour.

Castiel reaches up and takes Dean's glasses off with a frustrated face. "I love you, and I missed you."

"Me, too."

Castiel plants both of his hands on either side of Dean's legs, pushing himself up onto all fours and kissing Dean on the mouth at full throttle. It never gets old. Dean is happiest knowing that this will never change between them. He shuts his book and shoves it aside.

Castiel breaks away and turns around, resolutely resting his back against Dean's chest. Dean sighs. "No working for a while?” Castiel has taken a lot of moves out of the cats’ playbook over the years, and bullying his way into Dean’s lap is one of the classics.  
In answer, Castiel bends forward to grab the remote off of the table and passes it back. "Pick a movie."

Dean does as Castiel settles in to do some art. He raises his knees and plants Dean's left arm across them. When he starts to draw, all of the tension leaks out of Dean, as always. Nothing relaxes him like this. Silent except for the TV, the tangy smell of Sharpies, Castiel's even breathing, the slight itch as the markers dry on him. His limp arm being turned this way and that.

The movie is almost over when Castiel caps his last Sharpie with a loud snap. That sound is how Dean knows he's done. "Can I look?"

Castiel turns his arm around a few more times and hums thoughtfully. "Yes."

Dean holds his arm out. Wow. It looks... familiar on the top. "Have you done this one before?"

Castiel scratches his nose and slips out of his lap. "Yes."

He has. It takes a minute. Then... _right_. It's the same tropical flowers that Castiel had first given him. The waves. It's a lot more detailed than it was years ago. He really has improved so much. "My first tattoo," he murmurs, turning his arm over. Looking down the underside of his arm, he suddenly realizes why Castiel decided to revisit this one. "Yes," he says. He wants to say it straight to Castiel's face, but his eyes are caught by the swirling calligraphy right against the pulse point on his inner wrist. "Yes," he says again, stronger.

Castiel scoots forward and places his hands on Dean's knees. "Really?" His fingers trace over the words, _Marry Me_.

"Hell, yeah," Dean confirms, yanking Castiel forward for a searing kiss.


	2. (Supernatural/Destiel) Kiss Cam I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s family has a tradition of getting engaged at baseball games. The problem is that Castiel really hates baseball.

  
_Dean/Castiel_  
**Baseball Fan AU**  


There's a slightly embarrassing tradition in the Winchester household that spans back a few generations, through all the branches of the family. And it begins and ends with baseball. The Winchester line is just this side of obsessed with the summer sport. Doesn't matter where they scatter to the four winds, what jobs they have, who their friends are, who they choose to start families with. It doesn't even matter whether the Winchester or the spouse-to-be proposes; it always begins with the jumbotron kiss cam. Every last one of them, down to So-And-So-Five-Times-Removed, has been engaged at a baseball park. It's even completely accidental sometimes. Sam Winchester hadn't mentioned the tradition, but his wife had pulled out the ring and asked the age-old question during the seventh inning stretch. The jumbotron only caught the last second of Sam snot crying and saying yes, though. The cameras had originally been focused on the mascots running the bases with any children aged 10 and under. Incidentally, Bobby swears that the Cubs won the World Series because of it. Didn't matter. Dean had been able to turn his weepy brother's acceptance into a Vine, and that's all that matters, really.

The bottom line is that Winchesters have tied their lives together with almost every team from the Atlanta Braves to the San Francisco Giants and all the stadiums in between. It's pretty awesome.

And Dean Winchester, probably next in line, thinks he'll break the tradition. Mostly because his lover, life, lighter of his loins, Castiel Novak, _really fucking hates baseball_. He hates everything about it. He hates the food, he hates the ritualistic cheers, he hates getting sweaty and sunburned and chapping his ass on the plastic seats. He _fell asleep_ when the Braves were in the playoffs. Seriously, who does that? 

At any rate, Dean feels sorry for Cas now that Benny's moved away and can't use the other season ticket. It's a true test of love that Castiel will even visit the stadium, even if he does stay glued to his cell phone, doing other things, the entire time. Though, Dean's pretty sure that Cas's limit of devotion would have been reached if they hadn't had such good seats this year; shaded and under a fan, so it's not so blazingly hot.

He also accepts the large, cold beer that Dean buys out of pity for him while playing on his phone. The more games they go to, though, the more Castiel pays attention. He won't ever be a full convert into the baseball religion, but he does sometimes watch when the Braves are up to bat. It's been a slow transition, but it's happened. Besides, Dean swore that he'd take someone else to the last two games of the regular season. Castiel still looks relieved about that as they settle in for what's shaping up to be a great afternoon for Dean and a lot of Pokemon hunting for Castiel.

Castiel isn't paying a single lick of attention to the game today. Occasionally, he even yawns. He's had a long week that he still doesn't want to talk about. Stressed beyond belief so much so that he's been extra snappy and even zoned out so far while brushing his teeth the night before that he'd jumped a mile and nearly choked on his toothbrush when Dean had called his name.

Dean props his feet up on the vacant seat in front of him and drapes his arm over Castiel's shoulders. "You okay? You really could have stayed home."

Castiel shrugs, blinking down at his phone. "It's a waste of a ticket. I don't mind being here. It's not like this requires activity on our part." He pushes his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose.

Dean smiles. "You sure? What's up with you this week?"

"It's nothing," Castiel assures him, actually looking up now. "I'm sorry about this week. I know I haven't been myself."

"Trouble at work?"

Castiel leans into Dean's side even though it's a scorcher today and his shirt is already starting to stick to his back. "Not really."

Dean kisses the top of his head and winks with a smirk. "Trouble at home?"

Castiel glares at him with a deadpan frown that in Dean's lexicon of Castiel translates to sass. "Sometimes. I live with an assbutt."

Laughing loudly, Dean says, "I love it when you swear. It's adorable. Almost like you're a human."

"I'm the best you've ever had, Winchester."

"And don't I know it."

The rest of their bickering is cut off when the Braves make a spectacular outfield play and Dean jumps to his feet with a roar, sloshing his beer. He doesn't notice - never notices - Castiel staring up at him fondly. Even the Baseball Grinch realizes that Dean Winchester is rarely as happy anywhere as he is at Turner Field, spilling his beer and making up new swear words to shout at the refs.

Play after play until the seventh inning stretch. The crowds are a lot larger than anticipated, though Castiel should have expected that since it's the end of the season. He's still nervous, though. 

Dean comes back with a loaded paper plate of nachos destined to be a heart attack, and fresh beers. He sits down and rests the plate on his knees, placing the beers in the cup holders on the arm of the chairs. Castiel moves his to the other side, away from Dean.

It's not the best time, but it's probably the only time he's going to get without waiting a whole other year to do it. He _can't_ wait for another year. It'd be too close to torture.

So, while Dean stuffs his face in ecstasy with the greasy food, Castiel reaches into the bottom pocket of his cargo shorts and pulls out a black velvet box. "Dean," he says.

Dean turns his head. His mouth is covered in chili and fake cheese, and he only bothers to wipe off his hands with a stack of paper napkins.

Castiel takes it back. This is the perfect time. He holds up the box. Opens it to show the contents. _Castiel's future husband_ , is engraved on the top of a platinum bracelet. He says nothing.

"Holy shit," Dean says. The nachos almost slide off of his legs. "You're asking me to marry you? _Here_? In the place you hate most in the world?"

Castiel carefully takes off his sunglasses and hooks them on his t-shirt collar. "I hate my cubicle more than baseball stadiums. And this is the place that you love most in the world. So, yes. Here. Now. Would you like to marry me, Dean?"

Dean takes the bracelet out of the box and slips it over his wrist. "Sure I would."

Castiel kisses him on the lips, and it tastes like awful nacho cheese and chili. He hates the taste, but he loves the way that Dean laughs into the embrace, holding him closer as cheering erupts around them. Castiel glances up just in time to see them on the kiss cam. He grins, waves, dives back into Dean and actually enjoys the rest of the game. Maybe he'll convert eventually for real. Maybe he'll make a new tradition of being married on home plate. Sky's the limit in such a place of worship.


	3. (Supernatural/Destiel) Stir Crazy

Castiel has been such a steadfast presence in their lives, that it takes Sam some time before he slowly starts to realize that the angel isn't there _all the time_. Now that he is. And it's changing Dean. Changing all of it. Castiel used to disappear for days and weeks at time, leaving the humans in peace, for whatever that's worth. But now, something about how the world is, and how they are, and now Castiel makes a point to come back to the bunker every night. Even when the brothers aren't there. He stays. He _cleans the kitchen_ when Sam and Dean are too exhausted to do so. He watches Netflix all night, and that sound has become part of the soundtrack to their overnight hours.

It's somehow strange that a celestial being is so willing to be a mundane human. Especially after he'd been such a reluctant one before. Sam can still remember him complaining about everything from taking a piss to getting hungry. And even though he's got his mojo back now, he sometimes laments the loss of human functions. Like eating peanut butter and jelly. For a while, Sam really can't figure out why Castiel isn't going anywhere or doing anything.

Then it dawns on him that he's not because Dean isn't. Dean had said they needed a vacation, and Sam had braced himself for whatever that meant, but it had turned out to be a staycation. Which was a word Dean would never use because he'd accuse it of being douchey. 

With nothing going on and long days at the bunker, Sam can actually do what he's best at. Observing. They've known Castiel for a long time, but that doesn't mean there isn't a lot still to learn. The guy's been all over the map, admittedly - from angel, to broken angel, to human, to God. Kinda makes it hard to get to know the real Cas completely. And since this is as normal as normal is going to get for them, Sam sits back quietly and observes.

First it's just watching Castiel relaxing. Or trying to. He sits awkwardly, and the one time he'd splayed out on the sofa to read an ancient text, he'd looked so strange with his head leaning half-on the armrest, Sam had said, "you'll get a huge crick in your neck like that."

Castiel had glanced up and said, "I don't get cricks in my neck." And the sentence had come out so strange and stilted that Sam had known it was true.

Gradually, watching Castiel becomes watching Dean and Castiel. It seems like during waking hours, Dean is always around. It starts with them sitting side by side at the take during breakfast. Castiel doesn't need to eat and won't since flavors are too overwhelming for an angel, with the exception of coffee. Dean drinks it by the gallon in the morning, and Castiel sits with him, nursing a single cup, grimacing every time he takes a sip. Half of it gets tossed down the drain, but with a lightning bolt of realization, Sam sees that it's Castiel just looking for an excuse to spend time with Dean without it being strange.

Which makes it really strange.

They argue about TV shows. Castiel leans on his hands against the he back of Dean's chair when he's browsing the internet. Dean stands closer than necessary while helping Castiel improve his aim in the shooting range. 

Sam's not entirely sure when Dean and Castiel start dating. But he's definitely sure of when they start acting like they're not dating. He knows when he stops hearing Netflix shows at all hours of the night. He knows when Dean starts smiling differently when talking to Castiel. He knows when he starts hearing them having private conversations behind Dean's closed door. Thankfully, he doesn't know if and when they start having sex. But he does know some mornings Dean is less grouchy than normal. And some mornings Castiel comes to the kitchen for coffee wearing Dean's clothes.

Sam wants to be happy for them, but he's not. He's hurt. 

Why does it have to be like this? Cas is family. He's been family. Why would they think that Sam would have a problem with them developing beyond a band of brothers? Honestly, Sam's only comment is that it's about damn time. But his brothers don't trust that. They keep hiding, and all of the formerly hilarious observations start to become really fucking irritating. Two weeks of that shit. Sam keeps hoping that they'll just tell him about changing their metaphorical Facebook statuses, but they don't.

So, Sam has to get the hell out of there. He's about to blow his top in a bad way. He calls Dean from the road and says he's going on a milk run hunt alone because he was getting stir crazy. He didn't want Dean to worry, but also wanted to be far enough away, that his brother couldn't stop him. 

And when he gets back... oh boy, when he gets back... Dean and Castiel are on the couch watching TV. And they're _hardcore cuddling_. That's it. That's fucking it.

"For fuck's sake!" Sam explodes.

Dean and Castiel jump apart like they've been caught making out in church. "Sam-" Dean starts, but Sam cuts him off with a noise of rage. His older brother is about to lie to his goddamn face, and that's just the last straw.

"Shut up, Dean! You guys are _assholes_! You've been together this whole damn time, and you weren't gonna say a word to me about it?! What's _wrong_ with you?! What were you gonna do, lie to me until I got a fucking wedding invitation in the mail?"

"No, of course not," Castiel says with a confused tilt to his head. "I've been asking Dean this whole time to tell you everything so that you could be the best man."

Sam almost chokes on his incredulity. "What the hell?" Is Castiel joking? It's often impossible to tell.

Dean says, "huh? Wait, what? I don't even want a - what?" Eloquent.

Castiel shrugs. "It doesn't matter to me. I apologize, Sam. Dean wanted to make a 'big deal' out of telling you about us, and I said that was stupid." At least he air quotes properly.

Sam sighs. "Didn't you trust me?"

"Cas, you wanna get married?" Dean says, clearly not hearing anything else.

"I trust you, Sam," Castiel says sincerely. "It was Dean's idea to keep it quiet until he was ready to tell you."

"Cas, seriously?" Dean asks.

"It's fine," Sam says, hanging his head. "Just... you don't have to do that."

"I know."

" _Cas_!" It's Dean's turn to be angry. "Would you listen to me, for fuck's sake? I'm asking you a goddamn question!"

"Yes, Dean," he says, endlessly patient.

Still fuming, Dean yells, "are you gonna fucking marry me or not?"

Sam sputters. Castiel's eyes practically bug out of his head. The only sound for a moment is the water banging in the ancient pipes.

"Well?" Dean demands, face red.

Castiel and Sam exchange a look. Oh. Castiel is asking for permission from Dean's only other living family. Sam does the only thing that he can do as the responsible family member. He tips his shoulder up and gestures towards Dean.

Castiel beams at him and then faces Dean, taking his hand firmly. "Of course, Dean," he says is his weird, formal way. "I'd be honored to."

"God, fucking _finally_ ," Sam breathes.


	4. (Supernatural/Destiel) Tale As Old As Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary and John Winchester buy a week long Disney World vacation for Dean on his birthday every year. This year, Dean has a plan.

Dean opens his birthday card and sighs. "Mom and Dad did it again," he says, resigned.

Castiel comes up behind him and peeks over his shoulder to see the stapled folded pieces of paper inside the card. He smiles a little. "That's nice of them."

"I told them not to," Dean grouches, unfolding the papers anyway. "It's expensive and they're retired."

"That doesn't mean anything to them," Castiel points out. "Mary would tell you it's just money. Again. Like she has to every year."

Dean gives Castiel the hairy eyeball over his shoulder. "Whose side are you on?"

"Theirs," Castiel answers, sipping his coffee. "Unless you're planning on taking someone else this year. Then I'll cry at your mom and she'll never let you hear the end of it."

"But she might stop sending me us a Disney vacation every year."

Castiel snorts. "Would she, though? I get the feeling she'd just send the confirmations to me."

Dean smacks Castiel on the shoulder with the confirmation pages. "You're probably right about that. Who else would I take, anyway? We're thirty. All of our friends are in their thirties. No one our age wants to go to Disney World at our age who doesn't have kids."

"Speak for yourself," Castiel argues, kicking back on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. "I look forward to it. It's the most magical place on earth."

Delivered in his deadpan tone, Dean can't tell if he's being honest, even though they've been together for the past ten years. But he suspects that Castiel isn't shitting him. Despite being overly serious most of the time, and a bit of a loner, Castiel saves up tons of money all year long in order to buy millions of souvenirs at the parks and take them out to nice dinners. There are ten damn years of tchotchkes carefully arranged and regularly dusted inside the curio cabinet. Around the house are scattered a decade of Disney magic. Cups from Epcot in the cupboards, collector pins covering a cork board in the office, character t-shirts in the dresser drawers, stylized hoodies in the closet, park passes and tickets collected in shoebox inside the bottom drawer of the coffee table.

Dean's not an idiot. He knows why he "mysteriously" started getting this birthday gift every year. Part of it is because he's never in his life taken a vacation for himself. No place has inspired him enough to beg off of work for a week. It helps that he doesn't hate his job running the successful local garage with Uncle Bobby.

So, when he'd called home to tell his parents that he was getting serious with the local convenience store manager, and outlined a few months of dates to them in order to prove his devotion to his parents, they'd asked when he was planning to take Castiel on a weekend getaway. He'd made the grave mistake of saying he wasn't planning on it and didn't have anywhere in mind, besides.

His mother had scoffed and informed him that the best way to measure long-term compatibility was to take a vacation together. If they hadn't murdered each other by then, there was a good chance of forever. 

Two weeks later, on his twenty-first birthday, a weeklong Disney vacation confirmation letter had appeared tucked into a birthday card. It's been like this every year ever since.

Castiel tips his head back over the couch to stare upside down at Dean. "Why is the card early this year? It's not even Thanksgiving yet."

Shrugging, Dean says, "because Mom and Dad say that for our tenth anniversary there we need to go for Christmas. Sort of cheesy, don't you think?"

"It's exciting," Castiel says, eyes shining. "I've always wanted to experience a Disney Christmas."

Dean plans his hands on either side of Castiel's head on the back of the couch. He stares down at his boyfriend fondly. "This really is the highlight of the year for you, isn't it?"

"Yes," Castiel grins. 

With his signature eye roll, Dean says, "fine. Can you take off work with such short notice?"

"Of course. I'm the boss." He tilts his chin up a bit, asking. Dean bends down and plants a small kiss on his lips in answer.

xxXXxx

As it turns out, Mary and John Winchester have gone out of their way for the tenth anniversary. It's the full VIP package, as far as Dean can tell. They've been put up the Polynesian Resort in one of the bungalows. When Dean drops his suitcase inside the entryway, all he can say is, "holy shit, this is too much space. We're only here for a week."

Castiel kisses Dean's cheek on his way past. "It's very large," he agrees. The windows and deck doors are all open so that the afternoon sun streams in, and the gentle lapping of the lake surrounding the bungalow can be heard. It's slightly cold, but not enough for two men from Kansas to need to close it up. "We can probably see the fireworks from here," he says wistfully.

Dean comes up beside him and grins. "Having second thoughts about the Christmas crowds?"

"Yes," he admits.

"I won't let you get lost, I promise."

Castiel turns and wheels his suitcase to the large master bedroom. "You never have," he murmurs.

The fireworks are on every night, so even though it's late in the day, they grab their jackets and head to the Magic Kingdom, planning to sleep in the following morning and visit the parks at a more leisurely pace for the week. 

And Dean has to admit that there's something about walking past Cinderella's castle into the park proper that feels a bit like coming home. It's like clockwork every year. He may piss on about the trip, but he loves it every year. Especially this year. 

Dean's been fidgety about his plan from the get-go, but it appears to be going off without a hitch so far. Castiel suspects nothing even after Dean insists that they dress in their nice jeans and good sweaters as they take on their usual haunts first, beelining for the roller coasters. They ride Big Thunder Mountain twice because it's Castiel's favorite. He says it makes him feel like he's flying. 

It's their first night, so Dean splurges on fine dining at Cinderella's Royal table, which eases Castiel's slight suspicion at dressing up.

Darkness has well and truly arrived when they depart the restaurant. Castiel grips Dean's hand tightly as he takes in the lights with wide eyes. "It's beautiful here," he breathes, staring up at Cinderella's castle decked out in sparkling white lights that make it look covered in glittering ice. He can't seem to move, he's so entranced.

Perfect. Dean reaches into his pocket while Castiel's attention is elsewhere and pulls out his cell phone. He sends the message that's been waiting to go since they'd arrived at the park, and a minute later, grins at the small crowd of people approaching them. "Cas," he says, drawing the man's attention back.

Castiel looks at him and then is even more shocked when he sees who's approaching. "How?" he stutters. "Why?"

His parents, brother Gabriel, sister Anna, Mary, and John surround them, making a small bubble that the rest of the teeming park crowds can't reach. They're all smiling.

"Dean?" By the time Castiel turns back to his boyfriend, Dean is already down on one knee holding up a crystal replica of the enchanted rose from _Beauty and the Beast_. It's beautiful, encrusted with white and pink sapphires. the crystal table holding the rose under the glass top has a gold engraved plate wrapped around it. It reads, _Dean and Castiel, Tale as Old as Time_. It's silly. Beautiful. 

Dean beams up at him and in the glow of the Christmas lights, Castiel has the funny thought that he really could be a Disney prince. "I planned this a long time ago. I wanted everyone to be here in our most important place today so that I could properly ask you to marry me. What do you say, Cas? Isn't ten years long enough without making this official?"

"Yes," Castiel attempts to say through his clogged throat. "It is. Let's make it official."

Dean jumps to his feet and sweeps Castiel into a kiss that solidifies Castiel's belief that he really is a prince. Their family crushes in with hugs and congratulations, and Castiel feels nothing short of magical as the Christmas fireworks begin to explode overhead.


End file.
